


La Tomatina!

by ko_writes



Series: World festivals and celebrations [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, Food Fight, Humor, Implied RusEng, Implied Spamano, La Tomatina, M/M, Romano and Spain acting like idiots, Tomatoes TO THE FACE, well attempted humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ko_writes/pseuds/ko_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As today is the 700th anniversary of La Tomatina festival in Spain, I thought I'd do my first fic in this fandom. I'm not as happy as I could be with it, and it'll probably get re-written at some point, but there we are.</p><p>Spain and Romano feel the other nations shouldn't be left out of the tomato-y fun, the others are more than willing to be left out of it, and England helps Russia. Just a bit of silliness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Tomatina!

   Germany surveyed the room with a tired sense of disappointment. Why couldn’t everyone just get along? For an hour or two at least?

   England, France and America were arguing, yet again, as Canada tucked himself in the corner and put on his headphones; they all knew Canada hated his family, for lack of a better word, fighting. Russia was talking to Lithuania and his other subordinates, accidentally scaring the hell out of them as always; Belarus was sneaking up on him, also, which wasn’t good. Japan and Greece were chatting, but Japan looked like he wanted to escape. And, of course, Romano and Spain were both missing.

   The only one properly behaving was Italy, though he kept trying to curl into his side.

   “Feli, not here,” he mumbled to his partner, “It’s not professional.”

   “Luddy, no one’s being professional today and I want a cuddle,” Italy smiled, wrapping his arms around the taller nation. Germany sighed and wrapped an arm around Italy’s slender shoulders, it was better to just go with it.

   The door burst open and there, stained red all over and carrying a large bucket of tomatoes between them, were Romano and Spain.

   The room died into silence, taking in the two nation’s stained clothes and rather… tomato-y appearance.

   “La Tomatina!” They both announced, reaching into the bucket and taking a handful of the crushed tomatoes each. That’s when the chaos started.

   The tomatoes went everywhere, staining everything. Austria was whining about how difficult it was to clean lace, England and America were hiding under the table, and Italy had enough in his beautiful hair to cover a large pizza. That was it.

   “Everybody stop!!” Germany roared, “What is the meaning of this, you two?!”

   “It’s La Tomatina’s seven hundredth anniversary, senor,” Spain informed, “Romano and I were at the festival and thought you shouldn’t miss out of the fun!”

   “La Toma – what?” America questioned, and England sighed.

   “It basically a giant food fight using only tomatoes,” The British nation simplified.

   America’s eyes lit up, “Oh man, that’s awesome!”

   “But why are you doing this, Romano?” Italy inquired.

   “Because I have a little something for the potato bastard,” Romano smirked, quickly throwing a handful of the tomatoes in Germany’s face, “Run, Antonio!”

   The two chaotic nations ran out, laughing at their own antics.

   Germany wiped the tomatoes from his eyes and grumbled about cancelling the meeting to go and clean up. Everyone nodded, all feeling far too sticky.

   As the nations filed out, only two remained; Russia and England.

   Ivan was sitting on the floor, staring at his now-very-stained scarf with a frown. Arthur’s brow furrowed and he went up to the larger nation.

   “Ivan? Chap? Are you ok?” Arthur asked.

“It’s… ruined…” Ivan sighed, “It’s ruined…”

   “It’s alright, I’m sure we could try to get the tomato juice out,” Arthur assured.

   “Really?” Ivan inquired, sniffing and rubbing his eyes, “It’s just… very important to me…”

   “That’s alright, I’ll do my best; maybe we could watch a film?” Arthur smiled, “It may have to soak for a while.”

   “Da, of course,” Ivan nodded, a small smile tilting his lips, “I’ll follow you, comrade.”


End file.
